Payback
by lafantomette
Summary: Harvey Specter wakes up alone and wounded, lying on a bench. He can't remember anything from the night before except Donna, drinks... Someone is out to get him. And what better way to hurt him than to hurt the one he loves?


_A/N: I'm a bit tired of the Mike angst on the show so here's Darvey angst. Hope you'll enjoy the ride, it's something different from what I usually do. Please if you do read this, say Hi and leave a comment!_

* * *

The first thing he feels is the cold air biting his face, forcing him to open his eyes.

The second thing is the sharp pain in his upper arm and shoulder, not from his old baseball injury but something different, painfully gripping his body, to the point of making him nauseous.

He blinks once and twice, his vision adjusting to the dying darkness: he is seeing a gray sky, clouds, and leaves dancing under the wind. It feels like morning, just before everything wakes up. He tries to move but the pain in his upper arm and shoulder is cutting his breath short. His head hurts too, and he rolls on his side quick enough to vomit the content of his empty stomach on the ground.

He sits slowly, his hand grasping the park bench. His fingers hurts, he has bruises on his hands.

Dry blood.

His?

He tries to remember the night before. He remembers Donna. He remembers having drinks. Not that many so why the headache? He pushes a hand on his forehead, realizing he has bruises there too.

He makes an effort but he can't remember the night before. Donna. Drinks. Laughter. Everything after that is just a black hole.

He isn't wearing a coat. He still has his jacket, no tie. He removes his jacket slowly, hoping to see what is causing the pain in his shoulder.

Blood, so much blood his shirt is sticking to his skin. He closes his eyes and swallows the lump in his throat, trying to get his nausea under control.

He isn't prepared for what he sees.

Donna's cashmere scarf is tied around his upper arm and shoulder, blood everywhere on the fabric.

His heart starts beating fast.

What if she's hurt too?

Where is she?

Why can't he remember a thing?

Someone is out to get him. And what better way to hurt him than to hurt Donna? He shouldn't have told everyone he cared about her. How foolish of him! When he tried to protect her he had told Evan Smith, in fact he told half of Manhattan how much he cared about her! He might as well have put up a neon sign on George Washington Bridge, flashing brightly: Harvey Specter is in love with Donna Paulsen.

He failed at protecting her. He had promised her he won't let anything happen to her, ever again, and right now she was alone, somewhere… why is he wearing her scarf? Why they let him run away?

He grabs his jacket and puts it on nervously. He gets up, every inch of his body hurting. He has to find Donna.

His eyes roams around him while he's walking slowly. He feels dizzy, he probably lost a lot of blood… He finally recognizes his surroundings.

Central Park.

He analyzes the situation: he can't go back to the firm, it would put everyone at risk. If he ran away from whatever situation he was in last night, they were probably out to get him. He will have to keep his moves as discreet as possible. Meaning, he can't go to the hospital. He's hurt, that's probably the first place his aggressors, whoever they are, will try to look for him.

It's time to make use of his contacts.

* * *

He knocks several times on the door of the chic brownstone townhouse located Northwest of Central Park. The man who opens the door looks tired and unhappy to see him.

"Harvey Specter…You know I worked all night so I hope…" The man gives him the once-over. "Did you take a beating at our boxing rink?"

Harvey stops him. "Peter, remember when I made the charges dropped for your son's little mishap? Now it's your turn to help me."

He doesn't wait for an invite to get in. The man closes the door behind him and Harvey removes his jacket, the blood tinted shirt and scarf immediately calling the man's attention.

"Now I see why you are here. Come sit in the kitchen I'll go get my stuff."

Harvey walks to the kitchen. Decorated in white with polished marble countertops this place is cleaner than any hospital.

He sits at the table, feeling the pain pulsating through his shoulder. He is trying hard not to cry. He doesn't want to seem like a pussy in front of that friend he trains with at the boxing rink, even if his job as a surgeon probably means he has seen many men crying.

Harvey doesn't have the courage to remove Donna's scarf.

"So what happened?" asks the man as he deposes various products on the table.

"That's the thing. I can't remember a thing. I woke up on a bench in Central Park."

The man who was slowly untying the scarf from Harvey's arm raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"It's a dark hole. I woke up extremely nauseous. The last thing I remember is that I was out for drinks with Donna, we were laughing. That's it."

"Donna? You mean that beautiful redhead who's been working at your desk for the past hundred years? Don't tell me you've finally made a move."

"She's a friend. Don't push it."

Peter laughs while taking stainless steel surgical pliers from the table. "She's just a friend but yet, you won't let me date her since I got divorced, and you feel the urgent need to punch any man at the boxing rink who mentions how hot she is…"

"It's complicated," sighs Harvey. "So, as much as I'd like to have girl talk while we sip tea and braid each other's hair, I think we have more urgent matters to discuss. Do you have any idea why I can't remember anything from last night?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if someone had slipped something in your drinks. Maybe they even shoot you with Propofol later. That would explain the amnesia. Someone must really hate you, Specter."

"That goddamn list is too long for my liking," mutters Harvey.

"Hmm…This is gonna hurt," murmurs the doctor as he pulls on the scarf. Harvey can't contain a cry. He feels like he's going to faint and his fingers are piercing through the dirty fabric of Donna's scarf, now on his lap.

"Holy shit!" the doctor is visibly stunned. "No wonder it hurts. Harvey, I'm pretty sure you got stabbed!" Peter takes a bottle from the table and Harvey closes his eyes. He knows what's coming. He feels the cold liquid on his skin, burning his wound.

He opens his eyes and looks at the scarf. There's dry blood on most of it, but strangely, he can still smell Donna's perfume. As the doctor is still working on his wound, Harvey tries to focus all his thoughts on her. Donna. When she laughs. When she wraps this scarf around her neck, pushing her long hair. How much he wants to touch her, kiss her. He forgets about his arm hurting like hell. He wants to hold her. He should have kissed her when he could. He feels a needle piercing his skin. "It's going to make the pain go away a little," says the doctor. "So, if you forgot about last night that means you don't know what happened to Donna?"

This asshole lied to him: everything still hurts, especially that knot in his stomach because he mentioned Harvey not knowing where Donna is.

His hands are still playing with the soft fabric of the scarf as something crosses his mind and he's pretty sure his heart stops beating.

"I need to know if it's only my blood on that scarf," he asks without thinking.

"The blood is dry, the results might take at least 24 hours…"

"I need to know if Donna's blood is on this scarf." He tries to swallow but his throat is so dry. What if she's hurt? What if she's dead?

"I'm going to call my friend at the FBI DNA Testing lab," says Peter getting up. "She owes me one."

She probably owed him a really big one because the man reappears a few minutes later and tells Harvey: "She'll stop to pick up the scarf within the hour and she will run the tests right away. Fast as she can."

Harvey mouths thanks. He just feels empty. Exhausted.

"You can lie on the couch and try to sleep for a few hours," adds the man. "I figure if you don't know who's after you it's probably better not to go home right now."

* * *

He sleeps for hours, haunted by nightmares. He sees her, he's trying to reach her, but he falls into a black hole…

Panic invading him he wakes up and sits squarely on the couch. His head between his hands he tries to regulate his breathing.

His throat is still dry and he still feels slightly nauseous. Before he even tries to get up, Peter is standing in front of him, handing him a tall glass of water.

"I got a call back…Harvey I'm so sorry. She said it's very likely there's Donna's blood on this scarf."


End file.
